


Borderline Satanic

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: BB!Patrick, Blowjobs, First Time, M/M, Underage - Freeform, Vandays, demon!patrick, devil!patrick, kind of, not really lmao he's an innocent lil bb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-04-29 06:59:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5119331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick has a secret and a lot of hats and Pete is just kind of gay.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil thing I wrote for Halloween but there might be more if I ever get time  
>  **EDIT: I made a tumblr for taking requests saverockandsoulpvnk & i'll try and write p much anything peterick especially in one of the verses I've already written :D **

Pete was nowhere to be found. Pete was nowhere to be found a lot, but right now he really should be around, considering they were meant to have left half an hour ago.

Someone had been sent to look for him at the venue. Someone else had gone to look at the other entrance where the opening band were hanging out and idly packing away their equipment, in case he'd just gotten sick of his own band's company.

  
Patrick wondered if anyone had considered texting him - considering the guy's total addiction to his phone and the fact that, even if he'd been kidnapped or something, he was likely to answer his phone unless he'd been murdered and the phone pried out of his still unrelenting, dead hand.

Patrick shook off the image and typed slowly (it was one those phones that he really shouldn't have, the ones that made him feel enormous and clumsy as he struggled to press the tiny keys but then again, he remembered it being equally annoying to have to press a key four times just to get the letter he wanted and then frequently pressing too many times and missing the desired letter so, all around he just didn't enjoy texting.

  
_where are you? I promise we'll leave without you if you don't get your ass up here._

 ** _i_ _m hiding_** came Pete's reply. Patrick frowned.

_Right. From what, if I may ask?_

**_i **f** u stpped b ing so fkin proper u cld prob rply b4 2mrw_ **

_yeah. so what are we hiding from?_

_**no ur not hiding?** _

_sure but, uh, we really got to go. I'll let you stop on the way for pizza if you come back now?_  
**_omg rick no1 actlly txts 'uh' nd def NO 1 uses ,_ **

**_but i'm hiding frm u._ **

  
Patrick's stomach dropped. The bare fact that Pete was using punctuation was a highly worrying development. He started to type out a 'why' when Pete replied again.

  
_**well it wsnt u. maybe a dream?**_

_**or a ghost!!** _

_**it wsnt u right p?** _

Patrick nearly dropped his phone and felt very, very sick. He hoped maybe Pete was talking about something else.

_um_

Patrick didn't know if that counted as a response, considering he was apparently not allowed to text 'uh'. But maybe um was different.

_halloween costume?_

**_hween is 2nite & u dont car abt it n e way + ive seen ur costume & its nt that_ **

_can you specify what exactly it was?_

**_fink u no. i thought u cud xplane?_ **

_I'm not telling you over text. It's embarrassing._

**_better nt b a plot 2 get me bck & eat me_ **

Patrick couldn't tell how serious Pete was but he felt a little uncomfortable to read that. _Not_ because he made a habit of eating people, but because the thought that Pete might be actually afraid of him made him feel a little dizzy and if he hadn't already been sitting down he would definitely have needed to

_no eating you. promise._

***

Pete came back to the van looking slightly ashamed of himself, and the search party was contacted and told the good news of his return. Patrick was feeling like he was possibly about to throw up and also very uncertain of exactly what was going on between him and Pete right now and how he was supposed to act.

He opted to sit in the very back, alone with the instruments where he was happiest, but accidentally made eye contact with Pete as he climbed into the seats in front, and flashed an apprehensive smile. Pete returned it but his eyes looked pretty weird. And not because they had something suspiciously like eyeliner ringing them, but that possibly helped. He looked sort of shaken, like when he had the bad dreams where his own family and friends turned on him and started stabbing him all at once, like he was Caesar. 

Andy started the van and predictably began to argue with Joe about the choice of music. Once they were totally oblivious, Pete unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the seat to where Patrick was lying on the floor with his eyes closed, possessed with some kind of futile hope that Pete take pity on him and drop it. No such luck.

"Trick!" Pete whispered, but it was Pete's version of whispering which wasn't really much like whispering. "Rick, Pat, _Stumpy_!"  
Groaning, Patrick opened one eye in time to catch Pete reach down to poke him and unbalance himself, fall over the seats and land next to Patrick with a thud.  
He looked apologetic and Patrick, out of instinct, tugged his knit cap down further.

"You said you'd explain." He said, like a child patiently explaining a fairy tale to its parents.  
Patrick swallowed. "I guess I did..."  
Pete looked at him expectantly and Patrick felt the need to explain himself. "Can I, um, can I just," he swallowed again, thickly, "Just say that, I, yeah so I wanted to, like explain first and, like, it's not really that exciting or, um, _weird_ and I-" he ducked his head for a few moments, blushing, before he gathered up the courage and caught Pete's eye, trying to look serious and sincere, and begging Pete to understand.

"I'm not- I- Well, I haven't told anyone before- my, my mom knows, obviously but I- I don't know if I should explain first or show you but, if I show you, you have to promise not to freak 'cause-" Patrick contemplated how to say what he wanted without having to say ' _I'm still me_ ' because that really _was_ embarrassing.  
In the pause, Pete reached out for him, distressed at Patrick's distress but still looking slightly nervous. "Ricky..."

Patrick flinched at the use of his mom's name for him. "It's not different," he tried, "I've never lied to you. I'm not- I'm not pretending to be anything I'm not."  
He figured anything else he said would just be stalling and tried to quell the buzzing of his head and churning of his stomach. "I'm-"

  
_Actions speak louder than words_ , He thought, and yanked off the beanie, ducking his head and squeezing his eyes tight shut. After a moment of not yelling, Pete whispered, "Dude!" loudly enough for it not to be a whisper, even a Pete-whisper, and when Patrick nervously opened his eyes, one at a time, there was nothing but awe on Pete's face. Patrick flinched when Pete stuck a hand is his hair and tapped one of his little red horns.

  
They weren't really horns, more like little red stubs that barely peeked out over his hair.  
Pete noticed and drew back. "Sorry, _sorry_ \- does it hurt? Sorry I-"  
Patrick smiled shyly, suddenly bashful and thought that this moment wasn't really going how he feelt it should. Not that he was complaining.

"No it's okay I- They're just growing so they're, um, kind of sore?" And it felt so weird to be talking about this with Pete, especially since Pete didn't seem to mind, simply continuing to look from his horns to his face with the expression of a kid that just got a really cool present for Christmas.

  
"Are you gonna, y'know, explain? You don't have to-" Pete said eventually. Patrick was suddenly surprised at how easily Pete believed and trusted him - without like trying to yank them off or something, thinking they were fake; or worse, believing him and screaming at him - and was unsure how to feel about this. _Pete watched a lot of Halloween films last night, and he has the mental age of an eight year old_ , Patrick reasoned.

  
Then his mind came back to Pete in front of him and Patrick grimaced. "I'm kind of a- well, _technically_ I'm a demon."  
He lifted his eyes slowly and looked at Pete apprehensively.

Pete smiled at him encouragingly. _What?_  
"The kind that devours souls and drinks the blood of the innocent? Because I'm not really at risk there, seeing as I don't have a soul and you've lived in the room next to mine in a house with thin enough walls to know I'm not innocent. Like, out of everyone here you'd be best off drinking your _own_ blood.

Patrick blushed, partly at the indication that he devours souls and partly at the memory of lying awake listening to Pete saying things Patrick wished he couldn't hear.

  
" _No_! Uhm, I'm- I don't know, it's kind of complicated... my dad um, well David sure as hell," he paused to chuckle at the turn of phrase, "Isn't my dad. Well, he is! But not biologically. I guess, my mom had, like trouble having a kid and she really wanted one, and she had some seriously weird connections and..." Patrick gestured to himself. "I guess demon swimmers are stronger than our- than _human_ ones?"

  
Patrick could see a lightbulb in Pete's eyes. " _That's_ why your mom's so protective of you? She _sold_ her _soul_ for you!"  
Flustered, Patrick explained, "Nonono, I just- No, he just thought my mom was really hot and it was a nice night for him and, y'know, she was, happy to oblige?" He blushed.

"I don't blame him, dude." Pete winked and Patrick punched him only semi-playfully.  
Pete looked embarrassed. "I had no idea... I was up last night and I saw you sleeping and your hat kind of slipped off and, I don't know, it's the night before Halloween and it was late and I scared myself I guess but I didn't really believe it, it was just my brain running wild again... It's stupid, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have thought you'd ever not be y-"  
Patrick tried to shrug casually. "It's okay... now you know, right?"

  
"Can I touch them?"  
Patrick stiffened but nodded, holding his breath as he felt Pete's fingers soft in his hair; wincing as they stroked the tender base where the skin was stretching to allow them out. "So they're, still growing?"  
Patrick shrugged. "I'm not going to have like, ram's horns or anything- sorry to disappoint..."

  
" _Awwww_ ," Pete joked, still very gently probing, stroking his thumb up and down and marvelling at the shiny, polished surface. "You sure you don't like sandpaper these guys and polish them?"  
Patrick blushed for the millionth time this evening and felt like he must be the colour of his horns by now.

All the confessing and awkwardness had apparently taken a lot out of him, because he let out a huge yawn and let himself slump into Pete's lap.

Some time later, Pete was still poking away, although it felt like by now it was just an excuse to play with Patrick's hair. Patrick was almost asleep when he heard Pete whisper, "So pretty," and lean over to press a kiss at the base of the one on the left and the sensitive skin there was suddenly bursting with electricity and Patrick couldn't help himself from shivering in Pete's lap, which Pete definitely felt.

Patrick suddenly felt a lot more awake. He didn't know the deal with him and Pete, suspected that no one did; Pete kissed him sometimes, when he was drunk, but usually pretty chastely, and Patrick let him. Sometimes, though, when Patrick was drunk (or pretending to be) and Pete wasn't, and Patrick tried the same thing, Pete would usually stop him calmly, which Patrick thought was super unfair that Pete was allowed to and he wasn't. But that, along with a tide of joking innuendos, was it.

Patrick couldn't take the emotional torture any longer and sat up abruptly. Pete didn't seem super guilty or like he'd been caught doing anything he didn't want to be and Patrick thought maybe Pete was just being... Pete.

" _Pete_..." He began hesitantly, not sure how to compress the whirring of his brain into logical words.  
And _that_ seemed the bring out the guilty child look in Pete pretty well.  
"We should sleep." Patrick said, incredibly keen to avoid confrontation with Pete or, especially, with his own feelings - at the same time as Pete blurted, "Can I blow you?"

Patrick's eyes widened and if he'd thought he was red before, he'd actually gone up a few degrees in temperature (no really: he wasn't incredibly educated on the ins and outs of Being A Demon, but he'd noticed that his body temperature seemed to fluctuate a lot, and there was that one time he'd gotten into a shouting match with his mom, angrily grabbed his backpack to storm up to his room and singed a hole through the handle.) and Pete really didn't look as regretful as he should - more like... _challenging_.

He swallowed and said something he probably shouldn't. "Ye- _Yes_ , yeah." Nodding rapidly.  
Pete breathed out and scrambled towards Patrick, who yelped.  
" _God_ ," Pete breathed, once he was happily settled on top of Patrick, kind of stopping him breathing.  
"Guess again," Patrick replied weakly which caused Pete to throw back his head and _laugh_.

  
Patrick didn't know exactly how this was going to work because there was no way he could stand up and he was pretty sure that was kind of required. And yeah, he wanted to see Pete on his knees.  
While Pete struggled to control his laughter ( _it wasn't **that** funny_ , Patrick thought distantly) Patrick found the discarded hat and pulled it on, relieved. He felt bare and defenceless without it (he was pretty defenceless anyway) and was glad for its familiar protection amongst the mild terror.

Pete recovered very suddenly and dived down to suck a mark where Patrick's collarbone peeked out over his shirt. Patrick thought he should be worried about that but he really couldn't bring himself to ask Pete to stop.  
"You know, the age of consent here is 18, not 17," Patrick mumbled, apparently determined to destroy himself.  
"What a shame, I'm going to _hell_ ," Pete replied mockingly.

  
He stopped his endeavours for a moment to shift Patrick and prop him up against a stack of amps so his torso was upright but his legs were flat to the ground, then returned to the same spot, this time nipping at the sore spot he'd already created. Patrick was unable to hold back a whine at the painful pleasure and felt Pete smile against his skin and wondered when he'd gotten this hard.

  
He whimpered Pete's name, trying to convey what he needed but with his head feeling like he was dreaming and not providing him any words in the fog. Pete looked up at Patrick with big, dark eyes and Patrick inhaled sharply, tugging on his hat out of instinct. Upon seeing this, Pete made a sad face and reached for the hat. "Wanna, wanna see you, wanna see all of you. I can't see your eyes properly under that." He protested, pulling it off as soon as Patrick lowered his hands, grinning at the little peek of red he could see from his current angle.  
"Get on with it, please," Patrick begged.

  
Pete grinned manically and no sooner said than he had Patrick's fly undone and Patrick felt very glad Pete hadn't convinced him to wear those stupid skinny jeans when Pete yanked his pants down in one. Sucking a regretful farewell to the mark he'd been making, Pete slid down to put his head between Patrick's thighs, letting his face drag against Patrick's stomach as he did, smiling against him again when his nose slid over Patrick's crotch and Patrick couldn't help but buck up, whimpering little 'please please _please_ 's.

  
"Sorry, Tricky," Pete mumbled into Patrick's thigh and then proceeded to _not_ humour Patrick, teasing and nipping at his thighs, gripping them hard enough to bruise but keeping his bites playful and gentle. Patrick felt like his underpants were going to rip and strained against Pete's hold.

Pete moved a little up his thighs and Patrick felt him grinning into the skin there. "Such pretty thighs, love your thighs, _so_ pretty, _fuck_ , so perfect, so soft..." he murmured, pressing his face into the skin, close enough that the tip of his head butted against Patrick's crotch. He bucked up harder, making little inarticulate begging noises. "... _please_!"

"okay, okay, okay," Pete looked up at Patrick and then ducked his head down again quickly, "so pretty, _sososo_ gorgeous, _God_ , trick, _Jesus_ -"  
"Stop naming deities!" Patrick breathed, frustrated. "It weakens my power," he added, making a sound that was more choking than laughter.

Seeming satisfied he moved his face to mouth at Patrick through his damp boxers and Patrick moaned loud enough to remind himself about Joe and Andy in the front. He went red and shoved a fist in his mouth, desperately bucking into Pete's touch. Pete laughed and he felt hot air gust over him, "Okay, okay, _chill_ ,"  
and then he peeled The boxers away and wrapped his lips around Patrick who barely had the strength to mutter, "not done this before."

Pete pulled off and Patrick let out a whine at the loss of the sensation. "Oh my god, really? oh my god _ohmygod_ there's no _way_ you're a demon, you're too pure, you're the most _innocent_ , beautiful person I know, ohmygod, I'm gonna make you come so _hard_ , god, _Trick_ , see you come undone for me, _fuckfuckfuck_... Shit, though, like don't..." Pete groaned, "Um, tell me if you want me to stop, or _anything_ , yeah?"  
Patrick nodded eagerly, whimpering something that was maybe _yesyesyes_ and then pushed Pete back down gently.

Only too happy to oblige, Pete wrapped his hand around the base of Patrick's cock and lazily jerked up and down, only adding his mouth again once Patrick was completely on edge, fidgeting and begging, completely given up on not trying to disturb Andy and Joe. Pete kept his fingers pressed into Patrick's thigh and enjoyed the give - not as much as he enjoyed Patrick's whimpering and calling his name.

He was so easy to drive crazy and that, in turn, drove _Pete_ crazy , and Pete could see from Patrick's face, with his eyes squeezed shut and his lips slightly parted ( _fuck that was so hot_ , he wanted to take a picture, could he reach a camera somewhere without alerting Patrick?) that he was trying desperately not to come.  
"It's okay," he said, not really understandable with the current occupation of his mouth but it didn't really matter because he sped up the motions of his hand and pretty quickly, Patrick stiffened and spilled all over Pete's mouth, peeling one eye open to watch come drip down Pete's chin, looking slightly embarrassed.

Wiping his face as best he could, Pete struggled up to be level with Patrick.  
"So _hot_ , you're so good, Trick..." Pete mumbled into Patrick's neck at the same time as Patrick said, "So are we...?"  
Pete chuckled. "You don't need to worry, I'm marrying you and having all fifty of our weird mixed-race mixed-species babies-"  
"Pete, I'm not _sure_ that's how it works exactly..." Pete huffed a soft laugh into Patrick's neck.

  
"Um, you might want to put some clothes on. I'm guessing you don't really want a roadie coming in in the morning to find..." he gestured to Patrick and added, "That's all mine."  
Which made Patrick blush, again, and hurriedly pull up his underpants and wriggle into his trousers.  
Once he was done he rolled into Pete and, oh. "Uhm, do you want like, some help?"  
Pete laughed and ruffled Patrick's hair, expertly avoiding his little horns. Patrick could tell he was about to say that it was fine and felt pretty disappointed that he didn't get to see Pete shirtless or press his fingers into the V that was hot enough to distract him from his jealousy of it. "I want to?"

Pete sighed, "Okay," like he was a really good person for letting Patrick jerk him off. Patrick did it dry and sex-tired (and as a dude-virgin - until just now - if that was a thing) but from Pete's reaction he did a pretty good job.

They fell asleep tangled up like that, moving away from the sticky wet patch with Patrick's head on Pete's shirtless chest, legs knotted together, Pete's hand in Patrick's hair, covering his two biggest secrets from any prying eyes.

Patrick was a little fire, keeping Pete just the good side of too hot in the normally draughty van, and making little snuffling sounds that melted Pete's heart. He didn't really sleep that night but that was fine considering the view, and the fact that he probably wouldn't have anyway.

***

Patrick woke up to Pete looking down his chest at him, and sunlight in his eyes. Pete smiled an enormous smile that made Patrick's heart surge for a long moment, and handed him his knit cap. "Might want this."

Patrick groaned.  
"C'mon, sleeping beauty, lunch time!" Pete said, far too brightly.  
Patrick took one last wistful breath of Pete's chest and took the hat, sitting up and yanking it on.

  
***

  
Trying not to look to much like he'd just lost his virginity-with-another-guy to his bass player, Patrick stumbled our after Pete into the parking lot of some run down diner.  
"What were you guys _doing_ last night?" Andy joked once they arrived.

It was actually aimed at how out-of-it they looked and maybe a _few_ weird noises last night, rather than any actual suspicions, but Patrick did what he did best and turned an incredible shade of red.  
Pete snickered. "Sorry if we kept you up. Patrick's a little _demon_ in bed."

In the silence (furious on Patrick's part and bemused on Andy's) a blood-curdling scream was he coming from the van.

Patrick tensed. It was quickly followed with a very high-pitched, " _There's jizz on my guitar case_!" 

Pete grinned guiltily.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick is HOT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> request tumblr is saverockandsoulpvnk & you can send prompts/requests for anything peterick including anything in one of the verses i've written before :) just some short fluff here 'cause I was bored  
> this probably won't have a specific plot/outcome, I'll just post short chapters when I feel like it

 

They were sitting together on the couch of their brand-new tour bus the first time it happened. Patrick was laying across Pete's lap, watching some film on the TV, and Pete was pretending to care about said film but it was hard when he had his completely adorable and now completely legal boyfriend sprawled across him. Pete was toying idly with Patrick's hair with one hand, the other encircled Patrick's stomach and occasionally rubbed loving circles around his navel, which made Patrick sigh and shift appreciatively under his touch.

Pete thought, from the screaming he was distantly aware of on the TV, that something important was happening in the movie. Patrick's hand, gripping Pete's thigh tightly like he was absorbed in the suspense, seconded that. He clenched and unclenched the hand around Pete's leg multiple times and Pete thought he was probably imagining it at first, until he saw black smoke coming up from his beautiful red jeans.

"Patrick!" he whispered urgently. Caught up in the movie, Patrick ignored him. " _Trick_!" Pete flicked one of Patrick's horns to get his attention, surprised at the surge of weird pride at how big they were getting, compared to the tiny stumps that were only about a month old when Patrick first told him, they were now about two inches high and Patrick didn't wince when Pete touched them, so it looked like they'd stopped growing at all.

" _What_?" Patrick grumbled, turning around in Pete's lap to look up at him with his big, blue eyes. Fighting off the desire to grab him and kiss him right there, Pete indicated with his eyes down at where Patrick still gripped his jeans, then winced in pain as it got even hotter and Pete could feel it quite significantly through (what was left of) his jeans.

Predictably, Patrick went red. " _Shit_! I'm sorry I kinda... forgot to tell you about that? Are you, are you okay? Jesus, did I hurt you?" He snatched his hand back like he'd been burned, although he was the one doing the burning.

Pete smiled reassuringly but slipped a sad glance at his ruined pant leg. "So, um... What's the deal with that?"  
Patrick shrugged guiltily. "Sometimes I, like... get really hot-" Pete snickered at that and agreed. " _No_ , like if I feel strong emotions and stuff. Well I mean, I guess. It's kind of random sometimes-"

"Hey, not that I don't love to snuggle you, but can you get off? Just- just right now, you're kind of burning me."  
Patrick yelped and leapt to his feet, looking embarrassed. With the intention of comforting him, Pete reached for his hand - thankfully he remembered before he burnt himself. "Does it hurt?" Pete asked carefully.

Looking a little surprised, Patrick blinked. "No - well not me anyway. I've, uh, broken a fair amount of stuff though." He looked kind of awful and as he stood there, shooting occasional hurt looks at the burnt fingerprints in Pete's pants, he seemed to curl in on himself.

" _Hey_ , no." Pete crooned, fighting the urge to reach out for him. It worked a little, Patrick brought his head up and looked hopefully at Pete and fuck, he looked so gorgeous with his red cheeks matching his horns and his eyes, huge and innocent looking. "It's not all bad, I mean, you always keep me warm at night," Pete suggested. " 's nice." He added.  
Patrick unfurled a little more, smiling softly. He was fucking ethereal, Pete thought, wondering if Patrick's mom got a little confused between a demon and an angel or something.

"So, like... how long does it take to, y'know, cool down?"  
Patrick laughed warmly. Ha, warmly. "I dunno? Probably like five minutes if I stay calm." Pete noticed that Patrick was always shy and reluctant to discuss the ins-and-outs of his demonic nature.  
"How come, like, your clothes don't burn, like mine did?" Pete thought suddenly.  
Patrick shrugged. "I'm not sure I obey the laws of physics very well anyway," he said lightly.

  
***

  
"Pete," Patrick growled, "Fuck _off_. I'm trying to-" Pete had been pestering Patrick for attention all morning. Not that Patrick had been ignoring him, but apparently that wasn't enough for Pete, who sat next to Patrick on the couch while he read a book, wriggling incessantly, breathing in his ear, and whining Patrick's name.

Almost predictably, the pages of the book started to go brown where Patrick was touching them and Patrick squeaked, dropping it. Guiltily amused at Patrick's forlorn look, Pete patted his head - through the cap of course. The faint handprint-shaped scars on Pete's legs, so barely there you'd have to be looking for them to spot them, had taught Pete his lesson.

"I'll get you some water."  
Patrick smiled faintly. "Thanks."

  
Pete returned with water and a pair of oven gloves, turned inside out. No expert on the mechanics of oven gloves, Pete had figured that since usually oven gloves were protecting from heat coming from the outside, turning them out on this occasion would protect from the inside.

Slightly confused, Patrick took both items and blinked at Pete. The water in the glass was starting to steam and Patrick thrust it down onto the floor and pulled on the oven gloves, picking it up awkwardly through the huge mitts. He almost spilled the water all over himself but eventually put the empty glass down and beckoned Pete to sit down.

He still was a little warm, just enough radiating out through his clothes to warm Pete. Anywhere where the skin was bare was still too hot, though, so Pete took Patrick's gloved hand and mimed kissing his lips, not actually getting close enough. "Sorry," he mumbled guiltily.  
"Oh, um, it's okay. I shouldn't have ignored you."  
"Your fiery temper mixed with, you know, _actual_ fire... not so hot of a combination, I mean - metaphorically," Pete joked.

Like he was a piece of too-hot lab equipment, Pete tested Patrick's lips with the back of his hand and, when they proved an even temperature, pulled Patrick onto his lap and kissed him softly. Once he realised he wasn't going to burn Pete, Patrick relaxed. He shook off the oven mitts roughly while trying his best to keep their lips in contact, which made him bounce up and down on Pete's lap, which gave Pete _ideas_.  
"That's _hot_ ," Pete groaned.

Patrick stood up abruptly, actually leaping off Pete's lap and staring at him with huge eyes.  
"What's wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Pete pleaded, grabbing at Patrick's sleeve. Had Patrick not forgiven Pete for annoying him, and all this had been a tease to get back at him? "Please come back, I'm so sorry..." Pete had learned early on not to say ' _whatever I did_ ' to Patrick, who was always antagonised by Pete's obliviousness when he did something wrong. Instead, Pete would expertly pretend he knew what the problem was and act apologetic until he could figure it out.

Patrick didn't seem particularly angry, though. Blushing, he lifted off his cap and ran a hand through his hair until he was satisfied and rammed it back down. "Oh," he said in a small voice. "You didn't mean hot like-" he giggled. "I thought I was burning you."

Sighing in relief, Pete tugged Patrick back into his lap. "If you were as hot temperature-wise are you are right now _sexy_ -wise, I would just be pieces of ash right now. Not a bad way to go," he added.  
Leaning into his touch, Patrick mused, "Y'know, no-one's coming back here for a while, and the door is locked..."  
" _So_ hot," Pete repeated.


End file.
